


Hell's Kitchen (or, The Supposed Mental Decline of Eve Polastri)

by OhKay987



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Assassins, Chefs, F/F, WIP, assassin by night, chef by day, i'm not sure exactly which tags i'll need to tag i just wanted to get something posted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-01-30 23:35:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21436543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhKay987/pseuds/OhKay987
Summary: Villanelle is a roaming executive chef that travels to restaurants that need a leader. At one of those restaurants is a server named Eve who works in the restaurant part time while she works her day job as a librarian at her husband’s school. Kitchen shenanigans ensue.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 41
Kudos: 153





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started this a long time ago but haven't worked on it in a while due to my evil brain and lack of motivation. But I thought maybe seeing how this lil bit was received would give me the push I need so feel free to let me know what you think! 
> 
> You can also send comments or whatever here: kayistiredt.tumblr.com 
> 
> Enjoy!

“Dammit,” Eve mutters to herself as she tries to rub away a stray splash of grease from the collar of her pristine white shirt. Waitressing was definitely not out of the realm of her abilities. However, maintaining a clean shirt seemed to be just beyond her reach. It wasn’t her fault the chef currently occupying the executive spot was sloppy and careless. Nor was it her fault that the day earlier a customer bumped into her with a glass of red wine. Or the time another fellow server crashed into her with a plate of chocolate cake. With fudge sauce.  _ Why the hell aren’t our shirts fucking black? _ Eve thought to herself as she alternated between deliberate patting with a soapy napkin and impatient scrubbing. Her shift just started. There’s no way Bill is going to even let her out of the team meeting in this condition, nevermind letting her out into the dining room. Eve let out a harsh breath of frustration.  _ What are the fucking odds? _

She tilted her collar at different angles underneath the scrutinizing fluorescent lights in the lady’s room. Luckily the dining room would be far more dim. If the stain could disappear under the right angles here, it would be practically nonexistent for her shift. Initially, for a brief moment, she thought about calling her husband for a new shirt. Quickly, she was met with two thoughts. One, she had no more clean shirts. Two, Niko was away on a school trip. His class was on a whole different continent, in New York City. So, there would be no quick visits from her husband with a new work shirt. 

She sighed once she realized there were definitely more angles where the stain could be seen than not. Maybe she could ask her trainee Elena if she had a spare shirt. She tucked the thought away for a last resort if Carolyn, her manager, stopped her. Carolyn ran  _ Envoy _ like a tight ship, despite her usually laid back demeanor. It was a scary calm. The type of calm you feel before a storm unlike anything you’ve ever seen approaches. Eve, while relentlessly headstrong about what she knew to be right, had never had the courage to push Carolyn past that point of eerie calmness. She was grateful. Regardless, lately she’s been feeling as though Carolyn’s been on edge and her consistent messy appearance was not helping things in the slightest. Moreso, Bill was on her ass even more than usual. No doubt, the result of pressure from Carolyn to tighten up his team. She remembered when Bill was hesitant to take on the responsibilities of shift lead. Now it seemed like he relished the power. Maybe even too much at times. Eve took a deep breath and checked herself over in the mirror one more time. She turned away and turned back, just to see if the stain naturally caught her eye. It did.  _ I’m screwed,  _ she thought just as the door opened. 

At first, she didn’t give the blonde woman much thought. She had already been away for too long. Any longer and she’d have to splash some water on her face, irritate her eyes, and fake a breakdown...again. But when the woman stopped at the stall door behind her and wordlessly turned around to hand her a Clorox bleach pen, all Eve could do was stare. Stare at the hand outstretched to her. Stare at the face that was nearly void of all emotion save maybe pity. Watch as it morphed from blank to friendly insistence, and then small tendrils of annoyance started to creep in. Eve took the pen before the annoyance settled.

“Thanks,” Eve said quietly before turning around and applying a quick thin layer of bleach to the stain. She watched it disappear before her eyes and sighed in relief. She turned around to give the pen back, but her savior had disappeared. She glanced under the stalls. No shoes. She was alone, just that quick.  _ What was that? _ Eve was not a religious person, “except in emergencies and orgasms,'' she would say. Nevertheless she couldn’t help but think that maybe an angel had visited her. Maybe God was finally showing some favor towards her. Before she could really dive into the implications of her new life as God’s Chosen One , her phone buzzed in her back pocket.. 

From Elena: Bill says he’ll give you the outside section if you’re late to team meeting! 

Eve rolled her eyes and hustled out of the restroom and towards the back of the restaurant where the pre-shift meetings were held. The last thing she needed was having to carry food in and out of the building on a summer night, so she can look gross halfway through the shift, therefore lessening her tips from their snooty customers. Her and Niko were trying to move soon, settle down for good. In a family house. She could not afford to lose out on tips. Before she could fully process the fact that Bill knew this as her friend and would still threaten her for some stupid team meeting...okay, maybe she was processing it already. She walked up to the small gathering in front of the host podium with a scowl on her face so apparent that everyone took a small step away from her.

Bill appeared behind her just a few moments later, and laid a hand on her shoulder, “Relax. You’re on time, and therefore will remain inside with the air conditioning.” Eve rolled her eyes but her shoulders did sink in relief with the addition of his steadying touch. “Alright everyone, we have- “ 

“Evening everyone,” Hugo said as he strolled through the nearby back doors buckling his belt with his apron slung over his shoulder. “Sorry I’m late, got a bit hung up with an old friend outside.” He sent a wink over to Eve, who was mortified that this new kid was remaining firm in his belief that he and Eve were anything more than coworkers. Elena glanced at Eve and bit back a grin at her obvious eye roll. 

“It’s alright,” Bill said initially, waving his hand in dismissal before sticking a finger into the air in psuedo-epiphany, “ Ah, but unfortunately we’ve already covered sections! So, you’ll be on the patio tonight. Sorry,” Bill said with a mockingly sympathetic shrug. “Maybe you’ll see your old friend again out there!” He said with a wide grin before clapping his hands together and stepping into the middle of the circle his team had formed. “Now! As I was saying, we have a new chef in the kitchen. So, let’s be patient with them tonight, just as they were with our ducklings.” He gave a soft nod and smile to Elena who was the newest on the team having just started last week. “There’s a conference tonight across the street,” he jabbed his thumb behind him at the large hotel that loomed across the street from the small restaurant, “and granted we may not have the...loudest reputation but we are likely to get hit hard for dinner. So! Game face. Focus. Remember: We’re a team. The specials tonight are the Coq au Vin Blanc and…” Bill glanced down at his notepad, “a cheeseburger with curly fries.”

The waiting staff sighed and rolled their eyes. To say that their current menu was inconsistent would be an understatement. There was zero consistency. Eve would tell her customers that the menu was like a ticket to travel the world, but the truth was that the menu was simply all over the place. Carolyn liked to let the chefs design the menu. However, that meant that with each new chef came a new menu. The restaurant had no regulars. Eve couldn’t count the number of times a customer had walked away sadly from  _ Envoy _ after learning that their favorite item had been taken off the menu. 

The front of the house staff begged “world renowned” Chef Frank Haleton to put some kind of organization towards his menu on an almost daily basis. But he was steadfast in his opinion that the menu was fine as-is and would appeal to those with the taste that deserved his “unique dining experience”.

Before Bill could brighten the mood of his staff, a crash rang throughout the empty restaurant. 

“Hey! You can’t do that! Carolyn! Where is- Hey!” Frank shouted as he dodged a stainless-steel hotel pan that was thrown in his direction. Bill frowned and looked over the heads of his team through the nearby window to the kitchen to see dishes, pots, and pans being flung from the propped open door of the walk-in cooler. Eve turned as well and saw her blonde mystery angel stride out of the large walk-in cooler with a plastic bin of what looked like mostly wilted celery. 

“You serve this? To people? On purpose?” Villanelle said with a sneer as she dropped the bin at Frank’s feet. 

“The-The truck order! The truck forgot the celery last week!” Frank tried to defend himself but Villanelle shook her head with a rueful grin. 

“Hm. And the market was closed as well? All week? You have no car? You could not go to the store? Could not send someone? Postmates? Could not pull celery out of your own fucking refrigerator?” Villanelle spoke louder and louder with each option she listed until she was yelling and kicking the bin of produce across the kitchen. A silence followed the thud of celery hitting the ground. There was a silence so still Eve thought everyone could hear how hard she swallowed as she watched the scene through the window. Villanelle took a breath and a step towards the taller man standing in front of her with wide eyes. “You are head chef, no?” she said quietly. 

Frank’s trembling form nodded while the blonde woman in front of him shook her head slowly, her sneer slowly transforming into a grin.

“Wrong. I am head chef.” Villanelle turned to the petrified faces staring at her with a wide grin. “My name is Villanelle. You will refer to me as Chef or Chef Villanelle, nothing more, nothing less.” She walked around the kitchen, basking in the attention of the entire restaurant. Even Carolyn at the bar was watching with a satisfied smirk. 

“I do not run bad kitchens. I do not run unsuccessful kitchens. I was hired…” She turned her attention back to Frank, who couldn’t seem to decide if he was irritated or petrified, “because this kitchen is not successful. I will fix it.” She spread her arms wide, gesturing to the rest of the chefs as she walked to the middle of the kitchen. “You are all welcome to join me. If not, I’m sure there are plenty of other mediocre kitchens that will have a place for you. Understood?” Mostly everyone in the kitchen nodded. 

“You. Do you have a problem?” Villanelle narrowed her eyes as she turned her attention back to Frank.

He closed his gaping mouth and straightened his back, standing tall above Villanelle, yet somehow still feeling like prey in a trap. “I-...this is my kitchen. You weren’t hired as an executive chef, I know that.” 

Villanelle stared him down and slowly morphed her death glare into a stare of amusement, almost wonder. “Huh...and yet here I am...being an executive chef. Funny how life works, isn’t it?” 

Frank’s mouth dropped open yet again. “You can’t-...Carolyn!” He called out as he walked out of the kitchen in a huff. Eve watched on, silent and impressed as Frank walked up to the bar which Carolyn was standing behind, polishing glasses as if she wasn’t witnessing the same spectacle everyone else was. 

“She’s...something else…” Elena whispered, snapping Eve out of her trance. 

“I don’t know if it’s a good or bad thing,” Bill added. “I should go see if the menu’s changed.” He slid past Eve and Elena to make his way to the kitchen. Eve couldn’t comprehend why she was moving behind him. Only that her feet were carrying her right behind Bill until she was stopped short when the older man turned around suddenly. 

“What’re you doing?”

“I...I have to...She gave me...Earlier…” Eve helplessly held up the bleach pen that was lent to her in the restroom.

“Ah, so that’s why I haven’t told you to get a new shirt yet. Well, looks like she might be good for something.” 

“I’m good for many things,” Villanelle said as she stepped out of the swinging doors of the kitchen to meet Bill and Eve in the small hallway that housed the doors to the restrooms and the entrance to the kitchen. “Servers are not allowed in my kitchen. What do you want?” 

“The specials,” Eve blurted out. Bill and Villanelle both turned their attention to her sudden outburst. Villanelle’s hard stare morphed into a soft smile as she looked down at this attractive yet odd woman she was seeing for the second time.  _ Must be fate _ . The thought made Villanelle chuckle to herself. How many times had she thought that about previous encounters with women just like Eve? 

Bill frowned at Eve’s outburst but quickly put on a friendly grin for the new chef. “Uh..right. We’d just like to know if there was going to be a change in the menu what with your...introduction to our team.” 

“And this!” Eve once again suddenly brought herself into the conversation as she thrust forward the bleach pen. “I...here. Thank you.” She said quietly as Villanelle slowly took her pen back and restrained herself from casually brushing the woman’s hand. It was a favorite of hers. A move so subtle yet sensual, it was sure to make any woman question her intentions and their own. 

“You’re welcome...I’m sorry I did not catch your name when we first met,” She said with a light laugh, suddenly becoming the most personable out of the three in the hallway. 

“Eve. Eve Polastri.” Eve stuck out her hand and Villanelle smirked and gracefully took it. She had already decided that if she were to touch Eve, it would be more than a friendly handshake but unfortunately she couldn’t do much more with this old man watching. 

“You’re welcome, Eve Polastri. Are you the lead server?” Villanelle said as she crossed her arms and leaned against the doorway. Her full attention was on Eve despite this older man lingering in her peripheral vision. 

Bill cleared his throat and stepped in front of Eve, breaking her trance.”No, that would be me. Bill, not that you asked. So. The specials?” 

Villanelle’s face took an obvious dip as the man stepped in front of her view and her expression went blank. “Same specials for tonight. There will be a new menu in the morning. Don’t worry it won’t be anything you cannot handle...Bill.” With that, she sent a wink over Bill’s shoulder to Eve and disappeared into the kitchen.

Eve couldn’t remember the last time she felt like this. She had completely zoned out as soon as she looked at Villanelle. It wasn't just that her face was entrancing but her whole...aura was. Just being near her made Eve feel like her life was that much more interesting. She had never wanted to know someone so suddenly or so badly.  _ Was I…swooning? Why did I give her my full name like this was some kind of job interview? Why was she looking at me like that?  _ She stood behind Bill wordlessly and staring at the swinging door Villanelle had disappeared behind as more and more questions bounced around her head.

“Do you need a moment to write a quick love letter or are you ready to return to the meeting?” Bill could tell his words cut through Eve’s thoughts as she blinked herself back into reality. He was only halfway joking. He was aware of Eve's husband, Niko. However, Bill never quite "vibed", as his younger coworkers would say, with Niko. He was a pleasant man for sure, but there was always something that a well-trained eye like Bill's was able to pick up between he and Eve. Something that put a question mark next to the couple's claim that they were soulmates. 

“Uh no...I’m good. Let’s go,” she said as she shook her head and power walked back to the group of servers. 

Bill sighed as he followed after her. Eve was known to get tunnel-vision, but Bill was wary if there was actually light at the end of this particular tunnel. 

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: (kinda?) Graphic Depictions of Violence. 
> 
> Just wanna say thanks for all the support. I wanted to post a little something to show how thankful I am for everyone who's read/reviewed this! It really means a lot! The next chapter is gonna feature a little more one on one time for villaneve as we see the girls go out after work together so stay tuned and thanks again!

3 AM. It was 3AM and Villanelle was kilometers away from her new job in London, sitting in a blacked out sedan in Liverpool, and watching the apartment behind her through her rearview mirror. It took her almost 4 hours in total to get her rental car and drive to her stakeout location. During this time she tried to make a dent in the menu planning that needed to be done by the time  _ Envoy _ opened at 11AM. However, multiple things (good songs, confusing road directions, bad drivers, visions of pretty waitresses with the best hair she’s ever seen) kept distracting her. Additionally, creating a menu for  _ Envoy _ was basically like creating a menu completely from scratch. Honestly, Villanelle didn’t even know how the restaurant was still in business. There was no running theme in the old menu whatsoever. Remembering what the place looked like, Villanelle couldn’t even come up with a general theme for the whole restaurant. What brought their customers in? Somebody with some hefty pockets must be funding the place. Or an idiot who didn’t know when to quit. 

_ Must mean I can do whatever I want,  _ Villanelle thought as she shrugged and pulled the pencil from behind her ear. She picked up the small notepad laying in her lap and tried again to tackle the hors d’ourves.  _ Gotta start somewhere _ . 

She was getting to soups when her phone alarm buzzed in the passenger’s seat. Villanelle didn’t think twice as she silenced her phone, slipped it into the waistband of the running shorts she was wearing, slipped in a pair of bluetooth earbuds that were connected to nothing, and silently exited the car she was sitting in. She broke into a light jog as soon as she hit the sidewalk. According to the file that was sent to Vilanelle’s secure email address, her target was a hotel heiress/Liverpool socialite named Cori Brooke. Cori had a penchant for buying expensive designer drugs and skipping out on her tabs. Unfortunately her bad habits had caught up to her in the worst way. A way that was going to pay Villanelle very well. Usually, Villanelle’s targets were a bit more high profile than some rich girl with a debt. However, since she was starting a new job, she decided to go light on her work loads for the next few weeks. No need to work harder than she needed to. Her targets allowed her to afford the lifestyle she was used to. But her work in the kitchens, that made her feel something. 

Her alarm was timed so that she would be bumping into Cori and her friends in the lobby of the expensive building just as they were drunkenly trying to get into the elevator. There were no specifics to how this job was to be done so, of course, Villanelle decided to have some fun. 

“What floor?” Villanelle said, faking shortness of breath as if she had just come back from a late night run. There was no response as Cori and a couple of friends talked drunkenly amongst themselves and leaned against the walls. Villanelle smirked as she pressed the number “20”. The highest floor. One of Cori’s friends glanced between Villanelle and the number she pressed and scoffed. Clearly he thought it was ridiculous that Villanelle, in running gear that was clearly not designer, could share the most expensive floor with him and his rich friends.  _ I could buy the whole building and bury you beneath it _ . Villanelle thought to herself, not missing the look thrown her way. The man mumbled something to Cori who also sneaked a peak at Villanelle. Although she noticed the roll of the young woman’s eyes, she pretended not to as she checked the Fitbit on her wrist and inwardly noted that she just might keep this prop she bought for tonight. And the earbuds. They were kinda cool.

The longer they were in the elevator together, the rowdier Cori and her friends got. It was as if the enclosed space drove them to entertain themselves and the only way their intoxicated brains could get the job done was singing loudly and playfully shoving each other. At one point, just as Villanelle had assumed, she was gently knocked into the wall as a consequence of the rambunctious group beside her. Of course, she was paid no mind and the group continued to have their fun. Unfortunately for them, that was just what Villanelle anticipated and she used the small period of chaos to reposition herself just behind Cori as they reached their floor. 

According to the layout of the building that was sent to her a week prior, there was a small alcove, just a few meters beyond the elevator doors on the twentieth floor. Originally a reading nook, it was commonly used for drunken sex or private conversations. Tonight it would be the stage for a much more lucrative task as it was conveniently located on the way to Cory’s loft.

The elevator dinged and the wealthy group tumbled out of the elevator in a fit of laughs and hiccups. Villanelle smirked as she silently trailed behind Cori. As luck would have it, she was somehow at the back of the group, although they were all headed to her apartment. Just as they were all about to pass the small dark space in the hallway, Villanelle swiftly stepped up, covered Cori’s mouth with a cloth that was tucked in her sports bra and dragged her into the dark space. The woman was unconscious before Villanelle could push her up against the wall.

It’s not that Villanelle cared about Cori’s pain. She knew that young women tended to be squealers and this was not at all the time to attract attention. A couple of minutes later, Vilanelle let out a content sigh as she surveyed her work.  _ Hm. Maybe Cordon Bleu for tomorrow’s special?  _ she thought as she slipped her earbuds back in and walked out of the dark alcove, leaving behind a dead woman: her throat slit open and her tongue hanging out of the hole in her neck.

The next morning, Eve sighed as she slumped in one of the dining room chairs and rolled silverware. She hated opening after closing the previous night. Especially because she was prone to having a few drinks with her younger coworkers and often that turned into one drink too many. And now here she was, at 10AM, regretting all of her decisions made in the past 12 hours. 

“Why didn’t I just call...the fuck...out,” Elena groaned as she sat down next to Eve with a tray of silverware of her own to roll into cloth napkins. 

“Because you need the money,” Eve answered simply. It was the correct answer but from the look of Elena’s face, Eve had a feeling the question was rhetorical. Eve looked down and continued rolling in the silence. 

“Good morning ladies,” Bill said as he came and sat down at their table with yet another tray of silverware. Eve always thought it was hilarious how much time they spent preparing for customers that never came. If anything, she was grateful for the prep time as it basically converted to downtime that she could spend with her friends. 

“Morning,” Eve and Elena mumbled as they carried on with their task. 

“Excited to see what your new friend is gonna roll out today?” Bill said to Eve with a smirk that was much more knowing than Eve cared to admit. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Eve replied in a way that was so instant and even, Bill was sure she had rehearsed. 

“Oh? So you have no idea about that blonde bombshell that strolled in here and is threatening to turn the whole kitchen upside down?” Bill said with a grin as he cheerily rolled his silverware. Although Bill was the pioneer of  _ Envoy’s _ nights out on the town, he had calmed down quite a bit after he got married and started his family. Now, he preferred to go straight home after work to spend time at home. Which lead to him having an almost annoying amount of energy in the mornings.

“Please, she’s not a bombshell,” Eve said with an eyeroll that even Hugo would deem a tad bit dramatic as far as Elena was concerned. 

“I would consider myself a bombshell” Vilanelle’s voice rang out so suddenly, it made everyone at the table jump. She smirked at the reaction of her coworkers as she strolled past the table, chef whites shining even in the low lighting of the dining room. She cleared her throat once she got to the bar where Carolyn was dutifully shining wine glasses, and flipped her braided ponytail off of her shoulder as she held up a sheet of paper.

“Your new menu.” Villanelle folded her arms after dropping the notebook paper on the bar. She knew she had put together just the menu that  _ Envoy  _ needed. It wasn’t even a question. She knew the area and the people visiting. She also took into account that they were across from the hotel and therefore would likely have visitors from anywhere. It was a menu that anyone would enjoy and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t proud of what she had put together. Especially on such short notice. But, her face faltered as Carolyn continued to shine glasses. 

“Take it to Kenny, he handles the menus.” 

Villanelle was silent as her brain tried to process the reaction, then make the decision on how to react. Was this a test? Usually her bosses couldn’t wait to see what she had come up with as the savior of their restaurant. But this woman didn’t even look down at her menu. She eyed Carolyn for a second, but the owner and manager looked both unbothered and unintimidated by Villanelle’s stare. She continued to polish glasses as if Villanelle wasn't even there.

“You don’t even want to review it?” Villanelle responded, irritation floating over her voice.

Carolyn stopped looking at the glasses to meet the chef’s eyes, something that people didn’t do often, “I’m good friends with your mentor. I’ve seen your work. I trust you. Take your menu to Kenneth and he will have it printed and ready by the time we open.” 

Although Villanelle’s ego was slightly inflated, she still didn’t quite know how to react to Carolyn’s seemingly laid back demeanor. Nevermind the revelation that apparently Carolyn and Konstantin were “good friends”. But, if that relationship meant what Villanelle thought it meant, she thought it best to keep quiet about it. For now, she would keep her eye on her new manager. She swiped the paper off the bar and stalked to the back of the restaurant to find this “Kenneth” person.  _ So that’s what keeps Envoy open _ Villanelle thought as she pulled back a curtain at the back of the restaurant and looked for the manager’s office. 

“Kenneth?” Villanelle called out as she walked down the surprisingly well lit hallway that housed the managers’ offices. There were two doors: one to her right and left. The one to her left was open and Villanelle could see a man hunched over at a desk when she peeked inside. 

“Yes?” Kenny swiveled around from the computer screen to face Villanelle at the doorway. “Oh you must be Villanelle. Is that the menu?” He said, gesturing to the piece of paper hanging from the woman’s fingers. 

Villanelle nodded silently and handed the man the paper. She looked around at the office that seemed to house nothing but technology. There was no real reason for a restaurant to have this many computers or hard drives. But not everyone would know that. Villanelle saved that fact away in her mind and walked out of the office. Between the gorgeous waitress and the interesting owner,  _ Envoy might be more fun than I thought _ . Villanelle smirked to herself as she walked out of the hidden hallway and towards the kitchen to prep her team for the day. 

"ETA on ticket 56?" Villanelle called as she used her towel to clean off the plates on the tray in front of her. They were halfway through the lunch rush and so far, everything was going according to her plans.

"30 seconds, chef," a chef called from the grill as she flipped a steak, squirted lemon juice over the top and covered it. Villanelle nodded and sent out the tray she was working on. Another was placed in front of her but she turned away from it to survey the kitchen before she continued working. She had to admit, she was impressed with her team. The menu was designed to be nothing any chef worth their whites couldn't handle, and she was satisfied to learn that the team she was left with was up to the task. All except one. 

"Frank!" Villanelle barked as she threw down her towel and marched to the stove-top range where Frank's tall form was hunkered over a pot boiling over with soup. 

"What?" He whined, exasperated as this was the third time since his shift started that his new boss had shouted his name. 

"It's 'yes, chef' you disrespectful worm," Villanelle said through a clenched jaw as she stopped next to Frank and snatched the whisk from his hand. "Are you trying to embarrass me by burning the soup? Do you not know how to stir? Can you not use a whisk? Have you lost your motor skills?" Villanelle pelted him with questions as she took over and stirred the soup back down to a controllable level and turned the heat down. "You cannot even handle soup. I should have you out with the servers grating cheese on salads," She mumbled as she looked over the mess of a man in front of her while she continued to stir. 

"You said I was going too slow so I turned the heat up!" Frank tried to defend himself. It was no use. Villanelle was not even remotely interested in what the man had to say. 

"Shut up. You are trying to sabotage me by burning my soup. I am not stupid, Frank." She said lowly as she looked the man in his eyes. The truth was there but she didn't even need to find it to know it. She had met, and replaced, many chefs like Frank before. She could smell the type a block away. 

"That's- I would never!" Frank said, supposedly dumbfounded at the accusation. The rest of the chefs in the kitchen paid no attention to the conversation, knowing better than to slow their production and also knowing good and well that Frank was exactly the type to try a sabotage plot. They glanced at each other with wordless understanding and kept working.

"Shut up!" Villanelle yelled as she whirled on Frank, a whisk dripping hot soup pointed at his face. "You are pathetic! You do nothing but get in the way and I will not have a rat in my kitchen plotting my downfall! Out!" She pointed the whisk to the door of the kitchen and turned away from Frank to start ladling the soup into bowls. "Nadia, take over Expo." The brunette woman working the grill nodded wordlessly and took out the rag from her apron to start wiping down plates and double checking orders. Villanelle looked up at Frank who was still frozen by the stove-top. "You have ten seconds to exit my kitchen before I use this pot and make it very difficult for you to exit anywhere," she said with a glare so deadly, Frank went a shade paler in that very instant. He scurried out of the kitchen without another sound, more than happy to be out of the vicinity of the deadly looking woman in front of him. 

"You've hired a psychopath!" Frank shouted at Carolyn as he backed away from the kitchen, through the dining room and out of the front door of the restaurant. "You hear that? You're a fucking psychopath!" Carolyn had a puzzled look on her face as her eyes followed Frank through the dining room. She was more confused that he was even still there more than anything. 

"You should never tell a psychopath they're a psychopath," Eve scoffed as she watched the scene next to Elena while they waited for their food. "It upsets them." Elena chuckled as she stepped up to take her tray and Eve followed behind her. So far, lunch had gone better than either of them expected. Everything was coming out on time and there wasn't one complaint. As a matter of fact, it was the opposite. The whole dining room was raving about their food. Even during the spectacle Frank put on, no one was willing to put their forks and spoons down. Secretly, Eve was excited for the end of her shift to try out some of the dishes herself. It had to be good if her tips had any say in the matter. 

Eventually the end of her shift did come, and Eve sighed as she slumped down into a chair at an empty table not too far from the kitchen while she waited for Bill to count out her tips. 

"Eve." 

Eve instantly straightened up as she heard her name in an accent that could only belong to one person. She turned around to see Villanelle coming out of the kitchen, her uniform still somehow spotless although the white apron around her waist was littered with spots and splotches of God only knew what. Eve resisted the urge to fuss with her hair as the blonde walked up to her. 

"Here." Villanelle stuck out a medium-sized brown paper bag, rolled closed at the top. "I could see you eyeing every plate you took from me. I made some samples." 

Eve was dumbfounded as she took the bag of food from Villanelle's hands. She stared at the bag for a moment, awestruck at the insight of the chef before she realized where and who she was. "Thank you," She said softly before looking up at the blonde towering over her. For some reason she felt the need to stand, which made Villanelle smirk as the height difference was shortened. "I...I really like what you've done with the kitchen. I don't think I've ever seen a lunch go so smoothly." 

Villanelle grinned and tried her best to look humble. A subtle look down at the ground, small shrug, little toe scrape. Maybe she was laying it on a little thick. She cleared her throat and met Eve's eyes again. "Thank you. I'm glad you like my work." 

"Well, we'll see how much I like your work after I get through this," Eve said with a small laugh as she held up the brown bag. 

Villanelle smirked as she backed away, "I look forward to your review," she said with a wink before spinning on her heel and marching back into the kitchen to get her team ready for dinner. 

It wasn't until Eve got home and saw the Villanelle's number written on the box of food that she realized why Villanelle had looked so pleased when Eve left that afternoon. She saved it before she even started eating. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I wanted to wait and do a longer update but I like the stopping point of this chapter and I wanted to get another update out for y'all! 
> 
> Thanks to all the readers, kudos leavers, and comment writers!

Eve (18:32): Where did you learn to cook?? This food is amazing!! 

Eve (18:32): It’s eve btw.

Eve was only halfway through the sample platter Villanelle had given her before she put down her fork and picked up her phone. Eve would say without any hesitation that the food she was eating was the best she had ever had from any restaurant. Of course, it didn’t overtake her mother’s cooking. Even if Villanelle managed to make even foods she couldn’t stand (mushrooms) taste delicious, it would never touch the nostalgia that came with her mother’s cooking. But still, it was amazing and Eve didn’t think twice about sending Villanelle the compliment she rightly deserved. 

Villanelle (18:34): Hello Eve. I was taught by an old man with nothing better to do. I’m glad you’re enjoying the food. 

Eve (18:36): Enjoying to say the least. I’ll have to start a workout routine if you’re going to stick around. 

Villanelle (18:36): As long as you stick around, I don’t plan on going anywhere.

Villanelle was normally confident when talking to anybody she was interested in. She’d been rejected plenty times before but at the end of the day, Villanelle knew she would be the highlight of anyone’s life. Their loss. But with Eve, her confidence wasn’t nearly as potent as usual. She was second guessing herself as soon as she talked to the woman one on one.  _ Was that too forward? _ Villanelle thought to herself after a few minutes passed and her phone didn’t buzz again. It was ridiculous. She was filthy rich. Beautiful. Deadly. Exciting. Anyone, man or woman, would be lucky to have her. She was life changing. Yet. Here was this woman, walking into her life and shaking it up without even trying. Since when did she worry about being too forward? 

Eve (18:45): I’ve been at the envoy for a few years and this food is the best incentive to stay I’ve ever gotten. 

Although a tad facetious, Eve meant what she had sent. After scarfing down the rest of the food in the takeaway box, she came to the conclusion that it’d just be stupid to leave the  _ Envoy  _ while Villanelle was executive chef. There’s no way she could afford the food otherwise. And the food was definitely worth staying for. 

Eve (18:46): You have to come with us to the bar next time, I’ll buy your drinks as repayment. It’s only fair. 

Villanelle (18:47): No Eve, I can’t let you spend money on me. Trust me, it’s not necessary. Just spending time with you would be repayment. 

Eve (18:48): You don’t know what you’re signing up for. If that’s all the repayment you want, we’ll be best friends by the end of the month. 

Villanelle (18:49): I would not be upset with that outcome. I think we would make good friends.

Villanelle was smiling as she laid in her bed on her side, staring at her text messages. She had never had a friend at a job before. Everyone was either competition or an enemy. Actually, it seemed like things were that way in life as well. Villanelle could count on one hand how many “friends” she’d truly had. It was never something she felt bad about, but she did often wonder if maybe a companion would help the boredom. So far, she wasn’t bored of Eve. She wasn’t even bored of thinking of Eve, and that happened a lot. 

The two continued texting, their phones buzzing for the next few hours as they went back and forth discussing the work day and how Villanelle came up with their new menu. The blonde conveniently left out certain inspirations that contributed. Eventually the pair said their goodnight’s. Eve remembered to add the knife emoji that Villanelle requested be added next to her name in Eve’s contact list. She forgot to call Niko to say goodnight.

Of course, the next morning when she woke up, it was too late in New York to call him so she got ready for work as usual and vowed to make an appearance in her husband’s life by her lunch break. 

Working at the library was never something that she wanted to do. However, Niko spent most of his day at the school, and to make ends meet, Eve had to spend a considerable amount of time at the restaurant. When they first started these jobs, they were full of optimism. Every moment that they did share together always seemed magical because they could be so few and far in between. Niko was the first to say, “Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” after every night of sex that seemed better than average. However, after almost two years of that type of schedule, the two just became comfortable with seeing each other less and less. It seemed like the better Niko did at his job, the more they made him coach, chaperone, or host afternoon detentions. The better Eve got at her job, the more hours she got. Until finally, at the end of their second year as husband and wife, Niko insisted that Eve fill the vacant librarian position so they could spend more time together. Initially, Eve was happy to be closer to her husband. She pictured them having lunch together, riding home together, maybe even finding some hidden moments throughout the day. In reality, Eve spent a lot of time alone in the library throughout the day while Niko taught. Their free times rarely matched up and sometimes Eve would have to rush from one job to the next, only to come home late that night to a husband that was already sound asleep. But Niko seemed happy. Maybe he saw enough glimpses of her during storytimes to satisfy him. Or maybe the small conversations they had when he took his class to the library was enough. In any case, their arguments dwindled, but their time apart seemed to stay the same. Sometimes, it felt like it increased. 

Currently, Eve knew it had increased. Now, Niko had a bridge club he attended on a regular basis. He explained that he was going to need a hobby too if Eve was going to keep going out with her friends after work. Eve didn’t want to admit that going out was more fun than coming home, so she didn’t put up a fight. 

One would think that the increased time apart would make the sex even better between them. But, what actually happened was a long series of short rounds of sex that left Eve barely satisfied and Niko fast asleep. After a particularly excruciating dry spell of intimacy, Eve started investing more time in learning better “self-love” techniques.  _ If I’m going to be fucking myself this often, I could at least fuck myself good, _ she thought to herself after a frustrating night of masturbatory efforts. A couple of weeks of research and a few purchases introduced Eve to a new orgasmic world that, if she was being honest, exposed her husband’s shortcomings. It also revealed some desires Eve was surprised to learn she had. 

Eve was in the middle of exploring one of her more recently revealed desires when the video she was watching paused and Villanelle’s name popped up on her phone screen. Eve was ashamed to admit her heart started beating even faster than it already was. She didn’t want to ignore Villanelle, but at the same time, she was hesitant to answer the phone in the state that she was currently in. That was: gagged, a belt around her throat as a make-shift leash, and a vibrator in hand. 

“Hello?” Eve said after quickly unbuckling the open mouth gag and wiping away the spit from her mouth. She didn’t have time to take off the belt before answering but she was working it off as she waited for a response.

“Hello Eve, am I interrupting?” Villanelle asked as she glanced out of her rearview mirror and flipped off the driver riding her bumper. She was on her way to another target, this time a professor at Oxford who had gotten a little too handsy with the daughter of a very powerful (and egotistical) man. Music wasn’t helping drown out the static in her own head so she thought Eve might be able to help. Villanelle did notice she could focus just a little bit better in the kitchen when she could hear Eve chatting nearby. 

“Uh...no! No I was just...watching TV,” Eve said as she tossed the vibrator aside and searched around for the TV remote. 

Villanelle smirked when a familiar sound in the background caught her well-trained ear. “TV? Is that to cover the sound of the vibrator? Or was there something particularly sexy on? Maybe something on HBO?” 

“What?! I- That’s...” Eve scrambled to turn the buzzing vibrator off, completely abandoning her mission to find the remote. In her efforts to jump back to the bed she nearly choked herself when her hand landed on the belt strap still hanging from her neck. “Fuck it,” she mumbled as she dropped the phone, found the vibrator, turned it off, and finally removed the belt from around her neck. She took a deep breath and picked the phone up. The coolness of the device just highlighted how hot her face was at the moment. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she rushed out as she ran a shaky hand through her hair. “So, what are you doing?”

“Listening to you panic.” 

Eve couldn’t help laughing at Villanelle’s deadpanned response. “Shut up. I was just watching TV and you can’t prove otherwise.” 

“I don’t think you want me to try. Anyway, I’m just driving to see a friend. But, maybe I am interrupting? I can call later.” 

“No!” Eve’s face heated up even more at how desperate she sounded. To herself at least. “No, it’s okay. I’m free. Who’s the friend?” 

Villanelle had no one to hide her grin from so she let it shine as she thought about how Eve sounded when she tried to end the call. “Oh just an old friend from my other job.” 

“You have another job?” 

Villanelle nodded the affirmative but winced at the thought of what she was opening the door to. Why on earth would she mention her “other job”? Usually she was an excellent liar. But with Eve she was barely able to remember that she should be lying. 

“Well, what is it? Or would you have to kill me if you told me?” Eve said with a light laugh as she slipped some pants on and walked downstairs to the kitchen. A glass of wine was definitely needed for her nerves’ sake. Plus, a little alcohol might help her jump right back to where she left off once the conversation was over. 

“Uh...I mean it’s nothing interesting. Just a desk job to help with the bills.” 

Eve frowned as she thought about the statement.  _ Apparently she’s got enough money to decline me buying drinks but she needs two jobs to pay the bills?  _ “Yeah...I mean kitchen pay isn’t exactly the best, is it?” 

“No,” Villanelle said, distracted by the driver switching between lanes in front of her. “Jesus, pick a lane you idiot,” she mumbled without thinking. 

“Sounds like someone’s got some road rage,” Eve smirked as a pop sounded off in the background and she poured herself a glass of white wine. 

“I can’t help reacting to the actions of the morons around me,” Villanelle replied as she stomped on the gas as soon as the car in front of her had moved over yet again to get in front of them. 

“Have you ever been in an accident?” Eve said as she settled into the couch in the living room and tucked her feet under herself. 

“Never. I am an excellent driver, Eve.” 

“Of course. Everyone else just doesn’t have a clue what they’re doing.” 

“Exactly! I knew you’d understand me, Eve.” 

“Why do you say my name so often?” Eve asked suddenly. She was notorious for stopping a conversation in its tracks with a single question but she couldn’t help it. As soon as it was in her mind, it was out of her mouth. She wanted to know. 

“I like your name,” Villanelle replied simply. “Do you want me to stop?” Maybe she dropped her voice to a more suggestive tone for her question. Just to see how her new (and most likely already worked up) friend reacted. Maybe.

Eve’s grin appeared around a bitten lip, “I don’t know...no? It’s just...no one says it like that.” 

“Like what?” 

“I don’t know!” Eve said with a laugh as her head dropped to the back of the couch and she stared at the ceiling. “I don’t know how to describe it. You make it… you make me sound...interesting.” 

“Do you not think you’re interesting? I thought you were very interesting when I saw you in that restroom.” 

“Please, I looked like a mess. A slob probably.” 

“You looked beautiful,” Villanelle said softly. It was light but with an air of such seriousness, the blonde could’ve sworn she heard Eve’s breath hitch for the smallest fraction of a second. 

“Shut up,” Eve mumbled as she looked down into her wine glass. She would be the last person to admit that hearing that stirred something in her she hadn’t felt since Niko called her beautiful on their wedding night. “So what are you and this friend going to do? Just catch up?” 

“Basically. What are you going to do tonight? The vibrator can’t be the only thing.” 

“Oh my God! There was no vibrator!”

“Eve, I do not want this friendship to be built on lies,” Villanelle responded with mock seriousness. 

Eve just laughed at Villanelle’s tone and rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I’m waiting for Niko to get home. He’s been out of town.” If Eve was being honest, she would’ve said her alone time earlier was in an effort to get a jumpstart on her own pleasure. Since lately Niko had started leaving her behind in the race to the finish line. Even though their sex was usually better than decent when Niko returned from one of his trips, Eve didn’t want to take the chance. Especially since her husband was returning on the later side of the night. 

“Niko? Is that...your boyfriend?” Villanelle asked. Eve could hear her frowning. 

“Husband, actually. Have I never told you about Niko?” For some reason, Eve was hesitant to bring Niko into the conversation. He felt like a mood killer. She attempted to avoid that. “DId you really think my real last name was Polastri? How many Korean-Polish people do you know?” 

Villanelle let out a soft chuckle. But Eve’s joke did not distract her from the new obstacle that had been revealed. A husband.  _ Her husband’s coming home and she’s fucking herself ahead of time? Interesting. _ “People come in all kinds of different ways, Eve. Who am I to judge? What time is Niko returning?” 

Eve glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantle, “He should be landing in a couple of hours so maybe three or four until he gets back here. Glad I ordered takeout or else I’d be starving.” 

“Don’t tell me you cannot cook, Eve.” 

“Ok, I won’t tell you I cannot cook.” 

Villanelle’s mood was starting to lift. “Oh Eve…” she responded. Pity in her voice.

“Stop it! I can cook a few things! Mostly Korean things...but I can make a pretty decent soup!” 

“Soup’s easy! The stove does the work! This is unacceptable Eve. I will teach you how to cook.” 

“Oh really? Niko’s been trying to teach me since we met. I’m a very stubborn student, so I’ve heard.” 

“I am not Niko. I will teach you everything I know. You will be able to keep up in even one of my kitchens by the time we’re done.”

Eve let out a loud laugh at Villanelle’s promise. “Okay Gordon Ramsay. Sure. Okay.” She laughed harder the more she thought about herself in one of those white chef’s jackets and hats, whizzing around the kitchen and looking like a determined cartoon character. 

“I’m serious!” Villanelle said, laughing along with Eve for no reason other than that’s what Eve’s laugh did to her. “When I get back into town, we’ll set a date. You’ll come to my place. I’ll teach you how to cook something.” 

“You’re serious, huh? Alright, chef. I’ll step into Hell’s Kitchen,” Eve said with a smirk as she settled back down to take another sip of wine. She noticed her glass was empty and sighed as she got off the couch. 

Now it was Villanelle’s turn to bite her lip. She’d be lying if she said that hearing Eve call her “chef” didn’t turn her on just a little bit. She got called “chef” a million times a day. But something about the way Eve said it. There was something about how Eve said it almost ironically, even though she was by all means an actual chef, that just did something to Villanelle. 

“I promise I won’t even yell at you. It’ll be nothing like Hell’s Kitchen. It’ll be Heaven’s Kitchen! It’ll be fun!” Villanelle said, her excitement building the more she thought about having Eve in her kitchen. Then she started thinking about Eve in her chef’s jacket cooking breakfast after a long night of amazing sex. She nearly swerved right off the road. 

“Sure,” Eve said with a roll of her eyes. “Is that where  _ you _ trained? Heaven’s Kitchen?” 

Villanelle snorted in amusement as she thought back to the days of Konstatin showing her how to debone a chicken in the mornings and taking her to the gun range in the evenings. “No. It was nothing like that.” 

“I want to train like you did,” Eve said. Villanelle couldn’t see it but there was a twinkle in Eve’s eye as she imagined herself being able to cook like Villanelle. The skill. The confidence. Hell, the confidence alone was enticing enough. She’d gladly go through whatever training program Villanelle had endured if it meant she’d come out with even remotely the same level of confidence the chef had in the kitchen.

Eve couldn’t see it but there was a twinkle in Villanelle’s eye too as she imagined passing on  _ all _ of her skills to Eve.  _ A partner _ . The thought was intriguing. Eve standing over a body proudly.  _ She’d look adorable.  _ “I don’t know Eve. It was very...strict, the training that I did. And it was years. Literally.” 

“You don’t think I can take it? I’ve been trained by some very strict people too, you know. Ever been taught piano by a middle aged chain smoking Korean woman?” 

Villanelle grinned at the image of a much smaller Eve getting yelled at by a mean old lady. She imagined it couldn’t be too far off from a younger version of herself getting yelled at by a mean old Russian man. “I can’t say that I have, Eve.” 

“Well it’s rough, let me tell you. So, I think I can handle whatever you throw at me.” 

Villanelle was tempted to test her then and there. Ask her if she was really ready to stab a person or strangle someone to death. But for once, she didn’t let her impulses get the better of her. She took a breath, then made her decision. “Alright. I will teach you like my teacher taught me. You will be great. Not better than me. But great.” 

“Not better than you? Is that a challenge?” 

“Trust me, Eve. You will not get better than me. I am the best.” 

Eve grinned. That confidence. She wished it was contagious. “Well it’s still not going to stop me from trying.” 

“Good. Keep that energy. You will need it. I have to go now, Eve. Please try not to tire your wrists out before our date.” Villanelle hung up as soon as she heard the indignant gasp on the other line. 

A few hours later Villanelle was sighing in boredom as she tugged the tie even tighter around the professor's throat as she stood behind his desk chair. His office was closed, locked, and soundproof which made strangling a pretty effective method. While the man's face contorted in pain and terror and grew in purple color, Villanelle's face was stoic. She grunted in effort as the man writhed in his chair, his hands cuffed around the back. Villanelle had posed as a future exchange student that was looking to come into the man's program (he was the Department Chair, of course), with an advanced standing. It only took two flirty lines from her before he was offering "an exchange that would benefit her". She got up and strutted towards him before picking up his hand and moving it towards her body, only to twist her grip on it and secure him to his chair. After that, the rest was easy. Now, he was staring up at her with lifeless eyes. 

"Hm. I think eggplant Parmesan would be a good dish for Eve to start on," She said as she tapped the professor's purple cheek and stepped away, whistling to herself as she closed the office door behind her. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I know, I was gone for a bit and what not. Tbh I was just stuck with this story for a while. Also I've had tons of income stress and no internet on top of all of that. But! I finally made some progress and found a place to upload this chapter! Hopefully you all like it! I'll let you know right now, you'll have to wait till the next chapter for the date but hopefully this can tide y'all over till then! Enjoy! 
> 
> P.S. I feel better about the storyline going forward so y'all might even get a double upload the next time I can find some internet since i'll be working on it while us Americans are all stuck at home. On that note, stay safe everyone!

Villanelle was giddy as she poured a 2ftx2ft plastic box of maggots over the Oxford professor’s body. She had a date with Eve. Beautiful, charming, gorgeous-haired Eve Polastri was going to be at her apartment in a matter of…well, they would meet soon. Possible dates swirled in her head as she squatted and used her gloved hands to spread the maggots evenly over the man in his shallow grave. She wasn’t usually one to simply stick a syringe of poison into someone and call it a night, but she was more-so excited to use the maggots and if she was going to move the body outside, it had to be a very clean kill. “Tonight won’t do…” she mumbled to herself as she stood and brushed off the gloves. She let out a breath and picked up her shovel yet again to start burying the man. 

“Tomorrow?” She questioned softly as she tilted her head to survey her work. She counted herself lucky that there was nothing but dirt behind the professor’s office. Grass would’ve made the job messier than necessary and she was very excited to use the maggots for the first time. Konstantin was going to get a kick out of it once he found out. She had always been creative in her methods. As she began packing her things (collapsing the shovel, cleaning out the bin, changing outfits) she remembered that she had a shift at  _ The Envoy _ tomorrow night. Perhaps she could do something with Eve after the shift? She sucked her teeth as she recalled that Eve was off tomorrow night. Of course, she had memorized the woman’s schedule along with her own when she saw that everyone’s schedule was posted in the kitchen. “No matter,” Villanelle said to the makeshift grave of the professor, “I’ll just invite her over after my shift.” She nodded, satisfied with her solution, and strolled away from the building to get some rest. 

* * *

Eve sighed as she lay in her bed, staring up at the ceiling, listening to the steady rhythm of Niko’s snoring. The man was nothing if not reliable and predictable. He came home, they had sex after his return. It was fine since Eve had managed to sneak an orgasm in before he got home. He went to sleep afterward.  Once upon a time, she loved that about him. But it was mornings like these, where she had nothing to do, nowhere to be, that she wished her husband was a little more spontaneous. She turned her head to look at him. She wished he’d pay more attention. She stared at him and daydreamed about a world where Niko was up before her with breakfast, ready to celebrate their first day off together in weeks. A Sunday morning breakfast in bed. A girl could dream. Instead, she sighed and rolled herself out of bed, earning not only a grunt, but also a shift from Niko as she stretched and headed to the bathroom. 

_ What’s Villanelle up to? _ she found herself wondering as she stared at herself, mouth full of toothpaste.  _ She probably makes a fabulous breakfast, oh my God. _ Eve could just picture the spread her new mentor would come up with. Eggs. Bacon. Pancakes.  _ No, too simple. Eggs Benedict. Maybe something different like shrimp and grits. What even is a grit? _ Eve was wrapped up in possible menu options for her make-believe  _ Breakfast du Villanelle _ when she heard Niko clear his throat and flip the toilet seat up. Just the thought of Niko peeing right next to her when she was in the middle of daydreaming about a fabulous breakfast was enough to make her scrunch her nose in disgust and promptly exit the bathroom. 

Niko frowned in confusion. It wasn’t uncommon for them to use the bathroom while the other was in it. Eve just did the same only a few nights ago when Niko was in the shower no less (secretly, he was disappointed that encounter didn’t lead to sex…or at least a blowjob). He shook his head at his enigma of a wife. He never quite knew what was going on in her head. Once upon a time, he loved that about her.

Eve had always been a tough nut to crack. Niko spent months trying to figure her out when they were dating and it wasn’t even until a year into their relationship that he felt like he knew the real Eve. He always pictured his future wife to be someone he felt like he knew instantly. He wasn’t necessarily a hopeless romantic, he barely considered himself a romantic (he always considered himself lucky because Eve never seemed like the type to want romance anyway), but he always wanted someone he could be comfortable with. Someone he knew and someone that knew him. His parents always seemed so…comfortable around each other. They knew each other so well their movements seemed to blend together. They were a well-functioning machine and Niko wanted that. But then Eve came along. He convinced himself that opposites must attract because Eve was absolutely magnetic. No matter how confusing things got, no matter how distant the woman became, he always found himself pulled toward her. 

But as he brushed his teeth and stared at himself in the mirror, he found that feeling in the pit of his stomach returning. It always did the second his mind became too unoccupied lately. The feeling that maybe Eve was starting to drift too far away for him to reach. He couldn’t understand it. Yes, they were busy more often than not these days, and that's bound to make a couple feel distant. And sure, that was his idea in the first place, to try to find something else to occupy themselves with besides each other. But it was only because he didn’t want Eve to get bored. He knew he wasn’t the International Man of Mystery. He knew he was what most would describe as simple. Maybe even boring if they felt like being harsh, but Niko tried to make himself more interesting. He gained some hobbies. He traveled. Whenever Eve suggested they take a holiday somewhere he agreed. Only to be left cranky at the unfamiliar territory. But he tried. Eventually Eve stopped asking and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t grateful. If he was being honest, Niko was relieved that Eve seemed to settle more into his style of things. Routine. He liked routine. He liked knowing what was going to happen next and he liked knowing what he was going to walk into when he came home. But recently, it seemed distance was becoming part of their routine. They didn’t see each other as often but he thought maybe that would make Eve’s heart grow fonder. Unfortunately, that plan started backfiring, and by the time he realized it he had made too many commitments. Niko was a man of his word. Now he was locked into the top of the list for chaperoning. He had students that depended on him. His faculty members respected the work he put into his school and…it felt nice to be respected like that. He knew Eve loved him, but he wasn’t always sure she respected him. 

“So, what’s the plans for today?” Eve said as she sat, cross-legged, on the bed, waiting for him with big hopeful brown eyes. 

Niko didn’t have the heart to say that he had nothing planned so he blurted the first thing that came to mind. “Want to…go on a picnic?” 

Eve’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. She didn’t expect him to have anything planned. Usually he would just shrug and ask her what she wanted to do. “A picnic?” She glanced out of the window, no rain yet. “Okay…” She said as she pulled her phone out to check the weather forecast. Her spirits lifted when she saw they were clear for the day. “Okay. A picnic!” She said with a grin as she bounced out of bed and leaned up to peck her husband on the cheek on her way to her closet. “What are you making?” 

“How do you know I’m cooking?” Niko said. Just to tease. He already knew he was making Shepard's pie for their outing. Maybe some puddings for dessert. And wine. Maybe some cheeses as well. He was getting excited just thinking about being able to cook for Eve again. Eve was always fun to cook for because she couldn’t do it herself. She was always grateful for everything. In his heart, he was grateful she couldn’t cook. It made him just a little bit more useful to the woman who always seemed like she could do without him. 

Eve just laughed at her husband’s question and continued rifling through her closet for something to wear. “You know, you won’t be the only chef in the house for long,” she said as she considered a sundress and then hooked it back on the rack. “I’m getting cooking lessons.” 

Now it was Niko’s turn to look surprised. “Cooking lessons? You’re not turning into a housewife on me, are you?” 

Eve frowned in both confusion and disgust at the mention of being a housewife. “What? No! There’s this new chef at the restaurant. Villanelle. Oh my God, Niko she’s incredible. She just came in and threw that dickswab Frank out like he was...a fucking….rotten cabbage or something! And her cooking!” Eve decided on a yellow blouse and tossed it to the bed. “I have to bring some of her cooking home for you, it was incredible. Like, literally the best food I’ve ever had.”

Niko tried to disguise the blow to his pride but he had to admit, at least to himself, he was hurt. His cooking was one of the few things that he thought still wowed Eve. Now this hotshot chef was managing to outdo him in a single takeaway box. He turned his back and continued getting dressed.

“Anyway, so we were talking last night and she said she’d give me cooking lessons! You should see her in the kitchen, Niko she’s like...a ninja or something in there. So fast. But so accurate! Every dish always looks exactly the same! Like...Exactly the same. It's amazing!” Eve pulled out a pair of black capri pants, the fabric just light enough to justify wearing black when the sun was on full blast. Maybe she’d throw on a sunhat just to be on the safe side. She was buzzing just thinking about being able to do what she watched Villanelle do in the kitchen. 

“Good luck to this Villanelle trying to teach you,” Niko said with a smirk. Maybe there was a touch of spite there. But it was mostly in good humor. He remembered trying to teach Eve how to cook when they first moved into the house. She was impatient, stubborn, clumsy, and it was all so cute to him. Sure, they got into an argument after Niko made one comment too many about Eve’s ineptitude in the kitchen but the sex was fantastic. At least, it was the first time.

Eve paused after Niko’s comment, she felt the bubbling of anger in her stomach but seeing Niko’s grin made it simmer down. She remembered the first night Niko tried to teach her how to cook. They had argued and had amazing sex afterward. Then the second lesson came around. Eve was convinced Niko was only being critical of her to get the sex after the argument. Maybe she leaned into the angry part of angry sex a little too hard. It was the only time Niko had to stop her during sex. Biting was thereafter off the table. 

“You just wait,” Eve said as she began stripping on the way to the shower, “Villanelle is going to teach me how to cook circles around you. Then it’ll be my Shepard’s pie you’ll be eating.” 

Niko’s smirk widened as he watched his wife walk away.  _ We’ll see about that.  _ He thought as he went downstairs, determined to make a pie that would blow Eve away. 

* * *

That afternoon, Villanelle was humming along to the classical music playing in her apartment as she ironed her chef whites.  _ A pizza. From scratch. Perfect.  _ She held up her jacket and nodded in satisfaction.  _ Eve will love it.  _

She was buttoning her jacket and admiring herself in the mirror when Konstantin walked in. “Amsterdam.” He said as he tossed the postcard with her next assignment on it on her coffee table. “Tonight.” 

Villanelle eyed the postcard on her table and let out a string of Russian curses in her head.  _ Of course _ . She was silent as she brushed a spec of dirt off of her whites that may or may not have been there. She took a breath and grabbed her keys off of the hook. 

“Hello? Villanelle.” Konstantin said as he leaned a hand against the front door, closing it just before Villanelle could take a step out of it. “Did you hear me? Amsterdam. Tonight. If you’re going to drive, you need to start now.” 

“I’ll fly,” Villanelle said as she turned her head to finally lock eyes with the older man. Her jaw was set. She gripped her keys in her hand, fully prepared to use them to keep her date with Eve in tact. 

“Fine. But this one requires complete discreteness. No fancy tricks. No maggots.” Konstantin said, his index finger wagging disapprovingly as he opened the door again. Villanelle nodded silently and walked through it. “You usually try to avoid planes…” Konstantin said as he followed Villanelle out of the apartment. 

“I don’t have time to drive today,” Villanelle said, deliberately using long strides to outwalk the older man. 

“What do you mean you don’t have time? What are you, working overtime? This is just a front!” Konstantin huffed as he struggled to keep up with his student. 

“I have...prior engagements.” Villanelle said as she got to her car. Again, Konstantin’s hand closed the door before it was fully open. Again, Villanelle was considering her keys as a viable weapon choice. 

“Prior…” Konstantin toned down his incredulity and lowered his voice, “You are a hired. assassin. You have no prior engagements. When you get a location, you go to it, and do your job.” 

Villanelle clenched her jaw and within seconds she pushed the older man against the door of her car. Unlike Konstantin, she didn’t care if anyone saw her. She pressed her forearm hard against his throat and her dug her keys into his side just enough to make him go rigid. She leaned closer and spoke lowly into his ear, “I don’t like your tone, Konstantin. I am not a child anymore and you will not speak to me like one. I will get the job done.” 

Konstantin stared down the woman in front of him. She was right. Villanelle was now a far cry from the rebellious little girl he was put in charge of years ago. “You may not be a child,” he said as he kicked Villanelle’s ankle and threw her off balance enough to free himself, “but I am still responsible for you. I will  _ not _ have you putting me and my family’s life at risk because of your petty rebellions.” He walked away and ignored the scowl Villanelle sent after him. He was too busy shaking off the feeling that the woman was growing out of control.

* * *

That afternoon at the Envoy, Carolyn grinned to herself as she heard another pot crash against the floor. It was becoming the norm to hear Villanelle yelling to her staff before her shifts. Konstantin told her she would be a handful. He insisted she think twice before allowing her through the doors, but Carolyn was deeply interested in the woman who had gained a name for herself among their circle. She had to witness the legendary Villanelle for herself. Besides, she hadn’t had anybody from the kitchen staff quit since the blonde took over. Today was especially loud though. 

“You idiot do you think this is a mince? You could use this as a doorstop!” Villanelle shouted. “Do you want the customers to choke to death? You want them biting into raw potatoes?” The poor prep cook flinched as Villanelle picked up the knife. With practiced ease she took a whole peeled potato and cut at it until it was transformed into a pile of identical tiny pieces. “Keep peeling and cutting until every potato that touches your hands looks like that.” She tossed the knife back onto the cutting board and continued her walk around the kitchen.

“What the fuck…” she mumbled as she walked up behind her saucier who was brushing the remnants of chili powder off her hands. “What are you doing? What did you put in there?” She dipped her finger into the sauce to taste it and narrowed her eyes at the scrawny brunette in front of her. Her voice dropped as she stepped closer to the woman. She could see the smaller chef swallow hard. “Did you add something to my recipe?” 

“It...I thought...our customers like it spicier,” the woman said quietly, eyes darting around the kitchen in search of solidarity. No one met her eyes.

“Ah,” Villanelle said softly as she took a step back. “You know your customers, huh? Tell me, what is your name?” Villanelle said as she tilted her head, making sure to get a good look at the woman. She briefly considered adding another assignment to her day. 

The chef cleared her throat and straightened her back to meet Villanelle’s gaze. “Nadia,” she responded. Villanelle was intimidating but she was confident in her skills as a chef. She worked hard to build those skills and she wasn’t going to let anyone make her think less of the hard work she put in. 

Villanelle smirked at the bravery of the chef in front of her. “Follow me, Nadia.” She turned around and pushed the doors to the kitchen open so hard, Nadia had to dodge them as they swung back. There were only a few customers dining during the time in between lunch and dinner. Even still, it was more than  _ Envoy  _ usually had this time of day. She stepped up to a man who was happily slurping the same soup that Nadia had been preparing more of for the dinner service and gently laid her hand on his shoulder. “Excuse me sir. I’m the executive chef here, forgive me for interrupting, but I just wanted to check on our customers for a moment. Are you enjoying your lunch here?” 

“Oh yes! It’s absolutely lovely!” the man said with a laugh as he wiped his mouth.

“It’s not too...mild for you, is it? Our saucier here, Nadia, she belives you might like it a bit spicier. As a matter of fact she just put about a tablespoon,” she glanced at Nadia who’s face was getting redder by the second, “it was a tablespoon wasn’t it?” Villanelle didn’t wait for a response as she turned back to the man, “About a tablespoon of chili powder to the whole batch of soup! But she says she knows you well. Well, I’d like to get to know you too. Do you think the soup needed to be a little spicier?” 

The man shrugged, clueless to the impact his answer would have. “No, I thought it was perfect! A shame you would mess with such a good soup, young lady. You should listen to your chef here,” he smiled politely and Villanelle returned the smile, said a quick thank you and turned abruptly to Nadia. She took her arm and pulled her away from the table.

She leaned in to speak quietly into the woman’s ear, “Every recipe I create is perfect. If they want more spice they can add it themselves. Don’t you dare try that shit again or you’re out. Understood?” she leaned back to look at the chef in front of her. She was trembling, shifting on her feet. “Not one for public speaking, eh? If you want to run a kitchen, you better get over that. Don’t make me repeat myself…” Villanelle said as she took a step closer to the woman. 

“U-Understood. I get it...chef. It won’t happen again,” Nadia muttered as she looked down at her feet. She hated how anxious she could get in front of others. Especially strangers. In all the time that she’s worked at  _ Envoy _ , she’s never been the one to talk to the customers. That had always been Frank. Whatever customer report Frank came back with, she had no choice to believe. It wasn’t like she was about to go confirm with them herself. Now it was dawning on her that Frank may not have been the most trustworthy source of information. Once it was clear that Villanelle was satisfied with her response, she promptly turned around and went back into the kitchen to remake the soup. 

Villanelle smirked in victory as she watched Nadia pour out the soup from the kitchen window plane and pulled out her phone to text Eve her plans for the night. 

Villanelle (14:25): Hello Eve, I hope you’re enjoying your day off. Would you like to come over for your first cooking lesson tonight after my shift?

Eve’s phone buzzed in her pocket and she let go of Niko’s hand to pull it out. They had been taking a walk around the park after their picnic. She grinned when she saw the text and glanced at Niko, “You don’t have anything planned for tonight, do you?” 

Niko frowned in thought and shook his head, “Nope. Don’t think so. Why, are you taking me somewhere?” He grinned and bumped his hip against Eve who was already typing on her phone. 

“Huh? Oh, no Villanelle wants to start her lessons tonight,” Eve said as she sent her response. “I told her I’m free.” She smiled and took his hand again. Only to pull it away again when her phone buzzed again a few minutes later. “We’re making pizza!” 

“Pizza? That’s pretty easy, isn’t it?” Niko said, not sure why he was feeling so bitter all of a sudden. Eve had never been this excited to cook before, and maybe it bothered him that she was getting more excited for a stranger than he’s seen her get for him in months. 

“Well, I am a beginner...but she doesn’t go easy on anyone so I doubt it’s going to be a walk in the park.” Eve paused and looked around. She looked up at Niko and they both burst into laughs. 

* * *

Dinner at  _ The Envoy _ was going smoothly. No one stepped out of line due to fear of Villanelle’s bad mood from earlier in the day returning, and Villanelle was in a much better mood after confirming her date with Eve. She walked up behind Nadia and clapped her on the shoulder. The chef jumped and turned around quickly, “I didn’t change anything!” 

Villanelle grinned and shook her head, “You’re not in trouble Nadia. I have to step out for a few hours. You’re in charge.” Nadia’s jaw dropped just in time for Villanelle to not see it as she spun around to make her announcement to the kitchen, “I am leaving for just a few hours! Nadia is in charge while I’m away! If anyone gives her any trouble I guarantee you will not have a place in this kitchen when I return!” 

The sous chef of the kitchen, Diego, let go of the saute pan he was holding and took it off of the burner. “Wait what? Excuse me? I must be losing my hearing with all the screaming that goes on around here.” He stepped up beside Villanelle and Nadia and pointed at the saucier, “Did you just say she was in charge?” 

Villanelle’s grin disappeared as soon as he heard the man start talking. She never did like Diego but he had skills she couldn’t deny. Nowhere near as good as her but he had never given her a reason to do much other than yell at him occasionally. Until now. “Yes that’s right. I, the executive chef, the one in charge, the one who runs this kitchen, said that Nadia is in charge. Do you have a problem with that?” 

“You’re damn right I have a problem with that! In the chain of command, I’m next in line! That’s how things work. She’s just a saucier!” Diego countered, waving his hand dismissively at Nadia. 

“I’m a good chef,” Nadia said quietly, folding her arms in defense. She was surprised to see Villanelle nod in agreeance. 

“She is a good chef. And she knows how to follow directions, something I see you struggle with…”

“Diego,” the sous chef said, standing taller to look down at Villanelle. 

Villanelle recognized the move and smirked as she stepped closer to the man. “Diego. Diego, your complaint is that you believe that since you are sous chef, you should be in charge while I’m gone, is that correct.” 

Diego nodded, “It is only right.” 

Villanelle grinned and took another step, forcing Diego to take a step backward. “I agree, that is how things are done. So let me correct myself. Nadia,” The brunette looked up at the mention of her name, “You are now sous chef.” 

“What?” Diego screamed. Nadia whispered the same. 

“Diego, congratulations on your new position as saucier!” She clapped the man on the shoulder and spun around. She didn’t have time to deal with the fallout. Either Nadia could handle it or they would both be gone when she got back. Either way, she had somewhere to be. The quicker she got this Amsterdam job done, the quicker she could come back, close up and get home to prepare for Eve. 


End file.
